


Within

by TLynn



Category: The Matrix (1999 2003 2003)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon, Religious Themes & References, Young Ghost, Young Trinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLynn/pseuds/TLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ghost finds a way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Within

**Author's Note:**

> _"The bud disappears in the bursting-forth of the blossom,  
>  and one might say that the former is refuted by the   
> latter.... Yet at the same time their fluid nature makes   
> them moments of an organic unity in which they not only do   
> not conflict, but in which each is as necessary as the   
> other." --G.W.F. Hegel, The Phenomenology of Spirit_
> 
>  _"I still don't remember how this happened  
>  I still don't get the wherefores and the whys  
> I look for sense but I get next to nothing  
> Hey boy, welcome to reality." --David Bowie, 'Reality'_

My hearing was impaired and my breathing was labored. I lifted my arm, albeit with great difficulty, and brought it   
to rest over my eyes, blocking my vision from sights I did not want to be my last. It was warm and clammy against my   
face.

My death was imminent, I was sure of it.

I found myself longing for the comforts of home. I wanted my bed and I wanted my bedroom. I wanted my dog next to me,   
my laptop next to him. I wanted my books on my nightstand, even the ones from Buddhist School that I never wanted to   
read. I would have given anything for those books now, for even a few pages I could refer to. I wanted my soul to have   
that guidance, as I couldn't properly extend my knowledge on the subject. My thoughts and consciousness had always   
been wrapped up in another belief, another reality, one which was sure to rot my brains, according to my mother. In   
a way, it turns out she was right – it led me here, brought me to this place, this place that is killing me. And I   
can't do anything about it.

"Hey, brother. How're you feeling today?"

Her voice halted my medicated train of thought. I groaned.

"Stop it," she said. "You're so dramatic."

I felt her hand, small and cool, gently wrap around my offending limb and pull it away until my face was showing   
once again. She let my arm fall back down to my side as she studied me closely, her eyes scanning my reclining form.   
Satisfied, she jerked her head in a nod and sat down in the chair next to my bed.

"You look better," she said. "And you don't feel so hot. Your temperature must be down."

She twisted her head, looking for something, while I struggled to keep my eyes open. How was I going to tell her   
that the end was near? Our paths had only recently crossed, but all we had was each other.

"I told you," she said, standing. She walked a few paces over to what I surmised to be my medical chart and pointed   
to a spot on it. "99.8 today. Still not great, but better."

I stifled a moan as she approached me again. She remained standing this time, hovering over me, hands on her slim   
hips. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" she asked.

"I...I'm...I think I'm dying, Trinity," I finally managed.

She rolled her eyes and sat down again.

"I'm serious," I said.

"I'm sure you are."

"Why didn't you get sick like this?" I asked.

Sitting before me, she was the picture of health, her cheeks rosy, her eyes clear, and her body lean. The light   
fuzz of dark hair on her head gave her a masculine look upon first glance, but once you saw the curve of her lips,   
the high of her cheekbones, and the brilliance of her blue eyes, the femininity washed over you.

"Because I'm not a wuss."

Feminine, yes. Smart ass, even more so.

"Did you get up at all today?" she asked.

"Earlier this morning," I said. "They had me take a short walk around the building."

"Outside, you mean?" she asked, her eyes widening a bit.

I nodded.

"What did you think?" she asked excitedly. "Isn't Zion great?"

"Zion gave me dysentery. I'm not too impressed."

"Oh, once you get past that," a new voice said. "It's not so bad."

Trinity and I both turned to see a man enter the room. He was older, his dark hair giving way to stark white strands   
and his face, a smile upon it, was softened by wrinkles. He wore standard medical garb and held a small canvas bag   
under one arm.

"Ghost," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Apparently, he's on his death bed," Trinity said, answering for me.

I shot her a hard glare, but it bounced off of her easily.

"He's got a weak immune system," she continued. "And he's milking it."

"Trinity!"

"What?" she asked, looking back to me, highly amused. "It's true."

The man laughed softly, his kind eyes taking in the two teenagers before him. They had been unplugged the same day   
and had been inseparable since. That had been just over three weeks ago and he was surprised, pleasantly, by the   
obvious connection they already shared.

"Trinity," the man said. "Do you mind if I speak with Ghost alone?"

"Not at all," she said, and then to me, "I'll come back later, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

She left the room and I met the man's kind eyes as he sat down in the chair. He seemed to sense my confusion and   
smiled.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"I'm Dr. Hamann," he said. "I looked in on you the first few days you were here."

"Oh," I said, dumbly. "Thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been better."

"You're getting stronger, though," he said. "That's good, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

He smiled again. He started to reach into his bag, but stopped just as his fingers disappeared into the opening.   
He stared at me and I could tell he was turning his thoughts over and over in his mind.

"The nurses tell me you've been having nightmares," he finally said.

I shrugged.

"They say you cry out in your sleep sometimes."

The beat of my pulse quickened slightly at his words. I didn't like the idea of anyone being privy to any part of   
my subconscious, especially if I wasn't aware of it.

"This isn't an easy transition, Ghost, especially when your body isn't healthy. Emotional health is desirable at a time   
like this, but with a lack of physical health, it can be hard for your mind to remain strong."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You're religious, aren't you?" he asked, quietly dismissing my own question.

"I was," I said. "I mean, in...back in...my family was Buddhist."

"You're not any more, then?"

I opened my mouth, but an answer escaped me and silence filled the room.

"I was wondering if you'd like to borrow these for a while," Hamann said, now fully reaching into his bag and   
pulling out two very old, very tattered texts.

He placed them down next to me and sat back, saying nothing as I gently picked them up and rested them on my lap. The   
top one was fairly thick and well worn, the corners rounded with age, the pages yellowed and some torn. The cover was   
plain, save for the title: 'Toward a Philosophy of Zen Buddhism'. The second was thin and in even worse condition.   
It was simply titled 'Karma'.

"Where did they come from?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't even remember anymore. Probably smuggled in by someone."

I ran my hand over their dusty covers. The memories of being in class, my Master in the middle of a lecture,   
flickered in my head and I could almost hear my mother reciting a prayer:

'By the power and the truth of this practice, may all   
beings have happiness, and the causes of happiness,   
May all be free from sorrow, and the causes of sorrow,  
May all never be separated from the sacred happiness   
which is sorrowless, And may all live in equanimity,   
without too much attachment and too much aversion,  
And live believing in the equality of all that   
lives.'

"Thank you," I said finally, picking up the books to hand back to him. "But I shouldn't."

"Why?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "It's just...it's all so different here. It doesn't seem like it would be of any   
use."

"Why?" he asked again.

"Because it's so different here," I repeated. "It's not anything like where I came from. I'm not the same here that   
I was there—"

"Ah," he said, interrupting me. "That's it right there, isn't it?"

"What?"

"It's a common tendency to forget who you were in the Matrix, to become a different person," he said. "The   
realities of each world are as different as night and day, yes, but you can't forget that what you are as an   
individual, what we are as a whole, is, to some extent, an extension of what we were when plugged in. There are those   
who have been unplugged for decades and still hang onto all that they were. But you see, there is the remarkable   
advantage of being able to take certain aspects of ourselves with us and leave others behind, if we so choose   
to."

"Were you born here?" I asked.

He pulled up the sleeve on his right arm, exposing one of the black metallic birthmarks that many Zionites shared.

"You are free now, Ghost, free to become whoever you want in every sense. Just remember that even those that were   
born here in Zion adopt many of our traditions, our habits, and our beliefs, all of which is rooted to that which we   
lived by in the Matrix. Who we were doesn't have to be forgotten."

He stood then, and tucked his now-empty bag under his arm again.

"Keep those books as long as you need them," he said. "And just remember that who you were is what brought you here.   
That in itself is a remarkable feat, Ghost. Don't abandon that which has set you free."

I watched Hamann as he turned to leave and we both jumped slightly as Trinity came rushing through the door and   
almost collided with him.

"Sorry, Doctor!" she said. "I didn't see you there."

"Trinity," he said, a greeting and a farewell as he exited the room, an amused expression on his face.

As soon as I heard her voice, I quickly hid the books Hamann had given me under my blankets. Underneath, I rested   
my left hand down on them as she approached the bed.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Enrollment for the Academy starts next week!" she said. "Do you think you can be out of here by then?"

I concentrated on the feel of the books again, hidden from view. I knew I'd share them with Trinity at some point, but   
for now, I wanted to keep them to myself, at least until I decided whether or not to read them. They represented a   
strength I had yet to completely open myself to and the idea was daunting.

"Ghost?" she asked, waving her hand in front of my face. "You still with me?"

"Yeah," I said, finally, answering her first question. "I think I can."

Perhaps I had decided to read them, after all.

***  
end


End file.
